Chapter 6 4Pm Sharp

• Zoella POV
• I arrived at the Gutierrez gate for the second time, and to my surprise, it swung open on its own. Again. Stepping through the front door, I expected to see Ethan, but instead, I was greeted by a young girl in her late teens. She must have been the one who ordered the pizza. I set the pizza down on the table, grabbed the cash, and was just about to head out without even glancing back at her.
• "I think I ruined dinner," she said, catching my attention. I turned to see her, an average-height girl with striking pink hair, looking a bit flustered yet charming. "I wanted to cook for my brothers before they got home, but I think I messed it up," she added, rubbing her temple with a smile that was genuinely warm, a refreshing change from the snobby rich girls I was used to.
• "Is this your first time?" I asked, dropping my helmet on the table.
• She let out a groan, "Yes, it is! I'm trying to make pasta, but it's just not working out."
• I couldn't help but chuckle. "Pasta is one of the easiest things to make!" I replied.
• "For you, maybe, but this is my third attempt, and I've ruined it all," she lamented.
• "Is that why you decided to order pizza?" I inquired, curious about her cooking struggles.
• She removed the apron she had on and tossed it onto the couch. "Zavion isn't a fan of pizza; he prefers something homemade, and all the maids are off right now. Dad decided to give them some time off after his trip." She let out a sigh before adding, "He wants us to figure things out on our own without relying on the maids."
• "Do you want me to show you how to make it?" I suggested, and I could instantly see her face light up with excitement.
• "Absolutely, how could I refuse?" she replied, then paused for a moment. "Or maybe you could help me cook it?"
• I grabbed my helmet from the table, feeling a bit hesitant. "I can't cook for your brothers; I'm just a stranger, and this is our first meeting."
• She flashed a smile at me. "What if we became friends? And just so you know, this won't be for free—I’ll pay you 200 bucks."
• The mention of money caught my attention, and I realized I could really use it, so I figured, why not? It was 200 bucks. For just cooking dinner. Pasta. "Deal! I'm Zoella, by the way."
• She handed me the apron with a grin. "I'm Izzy, Mr. Gutierrez's only daughter. Friends?" She extended her hand for a shake.
• I grinned and took her hand, saying, "Friends." I followed her into the kitchen, ready to dive into the cooking process. She chatted away about her brother, who had turned down their dad's offer to become the CEO of Gutierrez Company.
• "Zavion has always preferred being in the ring; it’s not about the money for him, but the thrill of the fight," she explained.
• I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Who actually prefers fighting over a CEO position? By the way, could you pass me the pepper?" I added three generous spoonfuls into the mix. "Do they have a thing for spicy food?" I asked.
• "Absolutely, they love it, and so do I," she replied with a smile.
• My gaze drifted to the pizza sitting all by itself on the table, almost pleading for attention. "So, what’s the plan for that lonely pizza?" I inquired.
• "Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ll be enjoying a midnight snack later, all thanks to you," she said with a wink.
• It had been half an hour, and the meal was finally ready. Izzy was clearly enjoying the delicious smell and the presentation of the dish. I turned off the gas stove and carefully transferred the food into the cooler.
• "I think I've done my part, so I’ll take my leave now," I said, grabbing my helmet and collecting the 200 bucks. Sure, it felt a bit excessive for just making pasta, but she was wealthy enough that it wouldn’t even make a dent in her wallet, unlike mine.
• "Where's your phone?" she suddenly asked.
• I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Why do you want to know?"
• "Just hand it over; we’re friends now, and I’ll need your number," she replied.
• I handed her my phone, and we exchanged digits.
• "I’ll shoot you a text to let you know how they liked your cooking."
• A thought crossed my mind about asking her for help in finding a job, but I hesitated. I had just met her, and I didn’t want to come off as desperate. The little voice in my head chimed in, reminding me to play it cool. "Thanks for the generous tip; 200 bucks is a lot for pasta," I said.
• "Honestly, I should be thanking you. You made my job a lot easier," she responded with a smile.
• Zavion's POV
• As I shut the door behind me, a delicious scent wafted through the air, instantly catching my attention. I made my way to the living room and spotted my sister lounging on the couch, completely absorbed in her phone. Whether she was deep into a game or having a serious chat, she looked pretty focused, so I decided not to interrupt her and headed to my room instead. Just as I was about to climb the stairs, I heard her call out, "Dinner in thirty minutes."
• Wait, did I just hear that right? Izzy was cooking? I couldn't help but worry about the last time she attempted to make dinner, which ended in some rather charred results. But what was that enticing aroma? I glanced back at her, but she was still glued to her screen. "And tell Ethan to come down," she added, almost as if she sensed my hesitation.
• I quickly retreated to my room to freshen up and then summoned Ethan to join me in the living room. When I returned, Izzy was now sitting cross-legged and had finally set her phone aside. "How about we order chicken and chips?" I suggested, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I’m not usually a fan of takeout, but after the last culinary adventure, I wasn’t about to risk my dinner on Izzy’s cooking.
• Izzy insisted on the necessity of consuming the meal she had prepared, stating, "But I cooked... you can't let it waste." She turned her gaze towards me, prompting me to take a seat beside her. I recalled a previous occasion when she had taken on the role of chef, during which the food was excessively salty and the meats were charred, nearly resulting in a trip to the hospital for our mother.
• I sought support from Ethan, who seemed to share my apprehension. He rubbed the back of his neck and, with a hint of trepidation, expressed his affection for Izzy but admitted, "I'm not ready to die. Let's just order."
• In response, Izzy made a bold promise: if her cooking proved to be unpalatable this time, she would refrain from cooking for us in the future.
• I turned to Ethan, who was already looking at me, and proposed a compromise: "We will take just one bite, and if it is as bad as before, you will uphold your promise."
• Izzy nodded in agreement and instructed us to wait at the dining table. Within five minutes, she returned, carrying a covered pot and plates, ready to serve. As she unveiled the pot, the enticing aroma that had previously wafted through the air enveloped us once more, and she began to serve the food.
• Ethan took a deep breath, inhaling the delightful aroma wafting from the plate in front of him. "Wow, this food smells and looks incredible... I really hope it tastes as good as it looks," he remarked, his eyes wide with anticipation.
• I could only manage a simple "Oof," as I grabbed my fork, eager to dig in. I took my first bite and paused for a moment, glancing over at Ethan, who was still just staring at his meal. After a second bite, I was blown away by how delicious it was. "Ethan, why are you just looking at your food? You should really try it," I encouraged him while sipping some water.
• Finally, after what felt like an eternity of contemplation, he took a bite, his gaze shifting between me and the plate. "Izzy's making breakfast tomorrow," he said, diving back into his meal. "And I definitely need more of this amazing pasta."
• I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched him wrestle with a piece of chicken. "Ethan, remember just half an hour ago when you were all worried about Izzy's cooking and wanted to order takeout? Now look at you, completely loving it!"
• He glanced up at me and said, "Zavion, if I remember correctly, you were the one who first suggested fries and chicken." Then he returned to his meal. "Izzy, I really appreciate the food. It was great, and I can't wait for breakfast tomorrow," Ethan said as he finally got up and walked out.
• "Zavion, what if I told you I didn’t actually cook the food? What would you say?" she asked while picking her plate up and going into the kitchen.
• "What do you mean by that?" I questioned, following her into the kitchen.
• "I… I didn’t make the food, Zavion."
• "If it wasn’t you, then who did?" I pressed.
• "My friend. I tried to cook for you, but it didn’t turn out well, so I decided to order pizza. When the delivery girl arrived, I asked her for help... and now she’s my friend."
• "You asked a stranger to cook for us? What were you thinking? What if she had poisoned the food?" I shot back, feeling frustrated.
• "But she didn’t, because I was with her the whole time." 4
• "So, what’s the plan for breakfast tomorrow?" I inquired.
• She grinned and said, "Let’s pass on that for now, but I really think we should bring that girl on board. She’s got talent."
• I shook my head, replying, "We’re not bringing anyone in right now. Dad’s coming back in a week. What are we supposed to say if he walks in and finds her here?"
• She rolled her eyes, "Zavion, Dad said he’d be back in two months. Were you even paying attention?"
• He frowned, "I could have sworn he mentioned two weeks."
• "He did, but then he corrected himself and said two months," she clarified.
• "And what about Mom?" he asked.
• "Mom’s not going to say much. Besides, aren’t you tired of cleaning your room every single day and doing your own laundry?"
• I paused for a moment, considering her words, then looked back at her and said, "You’re right; let’s have her come over tomorrow at 4 pm sharp."